”Whatdidyousayaboutmeinthere?””Mayn’tIsaywhatIlike?””No。””Well，Isaidyouwereapro-Boer——andsoyouare！””You’realiar！””D’youwantarow?””Ofcourse，butnothere；inthegarden。””Allright。Comeon。”Theywent，eyeingeachotheraskance，unsteady，andunflinching；
　　theyclimbedthegardenrailings。ThespikesonthetopslightlyrippedVal’ssleeve，andoccupiedhismind。Jolly’smindwasoccupiedbythethoughtthattheyweregoingtofightintheprecinctsofacollegeforeigntothemboth。Itwasnotthething，butnevermind——theyoungbeast！
　　Theypassedoverthegrassintoverynearlydarkness，andtookofftheircoats。”You’renotscrewed，areyou?”saidJollysuddenly。”Ican’tfightyouifyou’rescrewed。””Nomorethanyou。””Allrightthen。”
　　Withoutshakinghands，theyputthemselvesatonceintoposturesofdefence。Theyhaddrunktoomuchforscience，andsowereespeciallycarefultoassumecorrectattitudes，untilJollysmoteValalmostaccidentallyonthenose。Afterthatitwasalladarkanduglyscrimmageinthedeepshadowoftheoldtrees，withnoonetocall’time，’till，batteredandblown，theyunclinchedandstaggeredbackfromeachother，asavoicesaid：”Yournames，younggentlemen?”
　　Atthisblandqueryspokenfromunderthelampatthegardengate，likesomedemandofagod，theirnervesgaveway，andsnatchinguptheircoats，theyranattherailings，shinnedupthem，andmadeforthesecludedspotwhencetheyhadissuedtothefight。Here，indimlight，theymoppedtheirfaces，andwithoutawordwalked，tenpacesapart，tothecollegegate。Theywentoutsilently，ValgoingtowardstheBroadalongtheBrewery，JollydownthelanetowardstheHigh。Hishead，stillfumed，wasbusywithregretthathehadnotdisplayedmorescience，passinginreviewthecountersandknockoutblowswhichhehadnotdelivered。Hismindstrayedontoanimaginedcombat，infinitelyunlikethatwhichhehadjustbeenthrough，infinitelygallant，withsashandsword，withthrustandparry，asifhewereinthepagesofhisbelovedDumas。HefanciedhimselfLaMole，andAramis，Bussy，Chicot，andD’Artagnanrolledintoone，buthequitefailedtoenvisageValasCoconnas，Brissac，orRochefort。Thefellowwasjustaconfoundedcousinwhodidn’tcomeuptoCocker。Nevermind！Hehadgivenhimoneortwo。’Pro-Boer！’Thewordstillrankled，andthoughtsofen-
　　listingjostledhisachinghead；ofridingovertheveldt，firinggallantly，whiletheBoersrolledoverlikerabbits。And，turninguphissmartingeyes，hesawthestarsshiningbetweenthehouse-
　　topsoftheHigh，andhimselflyingoutontheKaroowhateverthatwasrolledinablanket，withhisriflereadyandhisgazefixedonaglitteringheaven。
　　Hehadafearful’head’nextmorning，whichhedoctored，asbecameoneof’thebest，’bysoakingitincoldwater，brewingstrongcoffeewhichhecouldnotdrink，andonlysippingalittleHockatlunch。Thelegendthat’somefool’hadrunintohimroundacorneraccountedforabruiseonhischeek。Hewouldonnoaccounthavementionedthefight，for；onsecondthoughts，itfellfarshortofhisstandards。
　　Thenextdayhewent’down，’andtravelledthroughtoRobinHill。
　　NobodywastherebutJuneandHolly，forhisfatherhadgonetoParis。HespentarestlessandunsettledVacation，quiteoutoftouchwitheitherofhissisters。June，indeed，wasoccupiedwithlameducks，whom，asarule，Jollycouldnotstand，especiallythatEricCobbleyandhisfamily，’hopelessoutsiders，’whowerealwayslitteringupthehouseintheVacation。AndbetweenHollyandhimselftherewasastrangedivision，asifshewerebeginningtohaveopinionsofherown，whichwasso——unnecessary。Hepunchedviciouslyataball，rodefuriouslybutaloneinRichmondPark，makingapointofjumpingthestiff，highhurdlesputuptoclosecertainwornavenuesofgrass——keepinghisnervein，hecalledit。
　　Jollywasmoreafraidofbeingafraidthanmostboysare。Heboughtarifle，too，andputarangeupinthehomefield，shootingacrossthepondintothekitchen——gardenwall，totheperilofgardeners，withthethoughtthatsomeday，perhaps，hewouldenlistandsaveSouthAfricaforhiscountry。Infact，nowthattheywereappealingforYeomanryrecruitstheboywasthoroughlyupset。
　　Oughthetogo?Noneof’thebest，’sofarasheknew——andhewasincorrespondencewithseveral——werethinkingofjoining。Iftheyhadbeenmakingamovehewouldhavegoneatonce——verycompet-
　　itive，andwithastrongsenseofform，hecouldnotbeartobeleftbehindinanything——buttodoitoffhisownbatmightlooklike’swagger’；becauseofcourseitwasn’treallynecessary。
　　Besides，hedidnotwanttogo，fortheothersideofthisyoungForsyterecoiledfromleapingbeforehelooked。Itwasaltogethermixedpickleswithinhim，hotandsicklypickles，andhebecamequiteunlikehissereneandratherlordlyself。
　　Andthenonedayhesawthatwhichmovedhimtouneasywrath——tworiders，inagladeoftheParkclosetotheHamGate，ofwhomsheontheleft-handwasmostassuredlyHollyonhersilverroan，andheontheright-handasassuredlythat’squirt’ValDartie。Hisfirstimpulsewastourgeonhisownhorseanddemandthemeaningofthisportent，tellthefellowto’bunk，’andtakeHollyhome。
　　Hissecond-tofeelthathewouldlookafooliftheyrefused。Hereinedhishorseinbehindatree，thenperceivedthatitwasequallyimpossibletospyonthem。Nothingforitbuttogohomeandawaithercoming！Sneakingoutwiththatyoungbounder！HecouldnotconsultwithJune，becauseshehadgoneupthatmorninginthetrainofEricCobbleyandhislot。Andhisfatherwasstillin’thatrottenParis。’Hefeltthatthiswasemphaticallyoneofthosemomentsforwhichhehadtrainedhimself，assiduously，atschool，whereheandaboycalledBrenthadfrequentlysetfiretonewspapersandplacedtheminthecentreoftheirstudiestoaccustomthemtocoolnessinmomentsofdanger。Hedidnotfeelatallcoolwaitinginthestable-yard，idlystrokingthedogBalthasar，whoqueasyasanoldfatmonk，andsadintheabsenceofhismaster，turneduphisface，pantingwithgratitudeforthisattention。ItwashalfanhourbeforeHollycame，flushedandeversomuchprettierthanshehadanyrighttolook。Hesawherlookathimquickly——guiltilyofcourse——thenfollowedherin，and，takingherarm，conductedherintowhathadbeentheirgrand-
　　father’sstudy。Theroom，notmuchusednow，wasstillvaguelyhauntedforthembothbyapresencewithwhichtheyassociatedtenderness，largedroopingwhitemoustaches，thescentofcigarsmoke，andlaughter。HereJolly，intheprimeofhisyouth，beforehewenttoschoolatall，hadbeenwonttowrestlewithhisgrand-
　　father，whoevenateightyhadanirresistiblehabitofcrookinghisleg。HereHolly，perchedonthearmofthegreatleatherchair，hadstrokedhaircurvingsilveryoveranearintowhichshewouldwhispersecrets。Throughthatwindowtheyhadallthreesalliedtimeswithoutnumbertocricketonthelawn，andamysteriousgamecalled’Wopsy-doozle，’nottobeunderstoodbyoutsiders，whichmadeoldJolyonveryhot。HereonceonawarmnightHollyhadappearedinher’nighty，’havinghadabaddream，tohavetheclutchofitreleased。AndhereJolly，havingbegunthedaybadlybyintroducingfizzymagnesiaintoMademoiselleBeauce’snew-laidegg，andgoneontoworse，hadbeensentdownintheabsenceofhisfathertotheensuingdialogue：”Now，myboy，youmustn’tgoonlikethis。””Well，sheboxedmyears，Gran，soIonlyboxedhers，andthensheboxedmineagain。””Strikealady?That’llneverdo！Haveyoubeggedherpardon?””Notyet。””Thenyoumustgoanddoitatonce。Comealong。””Butshebeganit，Gran；andshehadtwotomyone。””Mydear，itwasanoutrageousthingtodo。””Well，shelosthertemper；andIdidn’tlosemine。””Comealong。””Youcometoo，then，Gran。””Well——thistimeonly。”
　　Andtheyhadgonehandinhand。
　　Here——wheretheWaverleynovelsandByron’sworksandGibbon’sRomanEmpireandHumboldt’sCosmos，andthebronzesonthemantelpiece，andthatmasterpieceoftheoilyschool，’DutchFishing-BoatsatSunset，’werefixedasfate，andforallsignofchangeoldJolyonmighthavebeensittingtherestill，withlegscrossed，inthearmchair，anddomedforeheadanddeepeyesgraveaboveTheTimes——heretheycame，thosetwograndchildren。AndJollysaid：”IsawyouandthatfellowinthePark。”
　　Thesightofbloodrushingintohercheeksgavehimsomesatisfaction；sheoughttobeashamed！”Well?”shesaid。
　　Jollywassurprised；hehadexpectedmore，orless。”Doyouknow，”hesaidweightily，”thathecalledmeapro-Boerlastterm?AndIhadtofighthim。””Whowon?”
　　Jollywishedtoanswer：’Ishouldhave，’butitseemedbeneathhim。”Lookhere！”hesaid，”what’sthemeaningofit?Withouttellinganybody！””WhyshouldI?Dadisn’there；whyshouldn’tIridewithhim?””You’vegotmetoridewith。Ithinkhe’sanawfulyoungrotter。”
　　Hollywentpalewithanger。”Heisn’t。It’syourownfaultfornotlikinghim。”
　　Andslippingpastherbrothershewentout，leavinghimstaringatthebronzeVenussittingonatortoise，whichhadbeenshieldedfromhimsofarbyhissister’sdarkheadunderhersoftfeltridinghat。Hefeltqueerlydisturbed，shakentohisyoungfoundations。Alifelongdominationlayshatteredroundhisfeet。
　　HewentuptotheVenusandmechanicallyinspectedthetortoise。
　　Whydidn’thelikeValDartie?Hecouldnottell。Ignorantoffamilyhistory，barelyawareofthatvaguefeudwhichhadstartedthirteenyearsbeforewithBosinney’sdefectionfromJuneinfavourofSoames’wife，knowingreallyalmostnothingaboutValhewasatsea。Hejustdiddislikehim。Thequestion，however，was：Whatshouldhedo?ValDartie，itwastrue，wasasecond-cousin，butitwasnotthethingforHollytogoaboutwithhim。Andyetto’tell’ofwhathehadchancedonwasagainsthiscreed。Inthisdilemmahewentandsatintheoldleatherchairandcrossedhislegs。Itgrewdarkwhilehesattherestaringoutthroughthelongwindowattheoldoak-tree，ampleyetbareofleaves，becomingslowlyjustashapeofdeeperdarkprintedonthedusk。
　　’Grandfather！’hethoughtwithoutsequence，andtookouthiswatch。
　　Hecouldnotseethehands，buthesettherepeatergoing。’Fiveo’clock！’Hisgrandfather’sfirstgoldhunterwatch，butter-smoothwithage——allthemillingwornfromit，anddentedwiththemarkofmanyafall。Thechimewaslikealittlevoicefromoutofthatgoldenage，whentheyfirstcamefromSt。John’sWood，London，tothishouse——camedrivingwithgrandfatherinhiscarriage，andalmostinstantlytooktothetrees。Treestoclimb，andgrand-